


Sam’s

by Endora13



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Abuse, Bottom Dean, Consensual Sex, Evil Sam Winchester, Hurt Dean Winchester, M/M, Rape, bottom! dean, dubcon
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-04-30
Updated: 2019-04-30
Packaged: 2020-02-10 11:58:57
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,526
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18659986
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Endora13/pseuds/Endora13
Summary: Sam is soulless again. This time, he also has extra powers. Dean is so screwed! But he eventually learns new things about himself.





	Sam’s

**Author's Note:**

> I do not own the show or any of the characters.

He was naked, kneeling in front of Sammy with a dog collar around his neck. It had a bone shaped tag dangling from it with the word “Sam’s” etched into it. As usual, Dean had screwed up and Sam paid the price. Not only had Lucifer stolen Sam’s soul yet again, he’d replaced it with his own special blend; a drop of his own twisted angel grace combined with the powers of a demon, not the whole demon. It had been at death’s door when Lucifer scooped out just enough of its essence to turn Sam into the most dangerous and powerful monster on Earth, with the exception of course of Lucifer himself.

It had been months, a year, maybe more? Dean had lost track at this point, locked up for so long in a pitch dark room with the constant images playing all around him on a continuous loop. All day and all night, he was surrounded by images of Dad, Mom, Bobby, Jo, Benny, Mom, Kevin, even Garth, repeating the same words over and over. “slut, whore, stupid, useless! ” Had Sam orchestrated this, was he just lost in his head? He wasn’t sure anymore. It just kept going, all night, all day. Night and day were the same now, no light, no clock, and he had to earn the privilege of leaving his room, which was now completely empty of Dean’s few belongings. Even the bed was gone. Nothing but the images, all around him all the time. Bobby had a usual speech, “Stupid, idjit! You couldn’t even get through high school. Sam got a full ride to Stanford. You screwed that up for him too didn’t ya boy?”. Dad was usually next. “You had one job, one responsibility Son; protect your brother, keep him safe! Couldn’t even get that right could you? Look at him now, look at what you let happen to him! Anything he does to you now, it’s your own fault. You let this happen, you deserve it.” Sometimes it varied, with John telling him the reason Sam would always be his favorite. Sam had forged his own identity, found his own voice, while Dean, brainless coward that he was, just followed Daddy’s orders. It was what he did best. Well, maybe second best, after fuckung. Jo would appear, listing every bimbo he’d ever screwed, reminding him she’d turned him down because she’d had too much self respect to let slut like him put his hands on her. Cas would appear, telling him what a disrespectful, ungrateful ass he was. “You pathetic, entitled, arrogant little human. I’m not your pet, nor your employee. I am an angel of the Lord. I saved you from perdition and you treat me like I’m your lackey! You have the nerve to think of yourself as my friend?! You couldn’t be more unworthy of my friendship. Every time something doesn’t go exactly the way you want it to, any time I don’t come running the instant you have the gall to summon me, you just write me off. I cannot think of one good reason why I should save you now!” Benny was usually next. “You abandoned me! I had your back in Purgatory, yours and and that angel’s, and he was a magnet for Leviathans! I got you out of that place, and I needed you to help me resist the urge to feed once we were topside. And what’d you do? You abandoned me! If that wasn’t bad enough, cher, you sent me back there, back to Purgatory, let me sacrifice myself to save Sam. Look at how that turned out. He’s more of a monster now than I ever was. Another great call on your part, brother!” Kevin would appear and blame Dean for letting him die, sometimes with Ms. Tran, sometimes alone. Ellen would come next, Bobby would come back to remind Dean of how his not so brilliant plans had gotten him killed. Mom would tell him how ashamed she was of him, and Garth, sweet little Garth would turn on Dean and find things to blame him for. It was just too much, he thought he would lose his mind completely if it didn’t stop.

Eventually, the psychological torture was replaced by physical pain. He was caned, beaten unconscious, taunted, half starved, taken to the brink of death and brought back at the last minute, trying to resist, making smart ass remarks, telling Sam to go fuck himself, refusing to comply with his sick, twisted demands. And then there were Sam’s endless rants. “Poor, put upon Dean, always taking the lead, never letting anyone else be in charge. Always taking the blame when things went wrong, that was probably the smartest thing you ever did. If you’d let someone else take charge maybe things wouldn’t have gone wrong all the time! I’m doing you a favor sweetheart. No more responsibilities, nothing important to screw up, no one else you can hurt. I’m really not asking that much of you. Just cook our meals and do what you do best; be a good little whore, willing whenever I want to fuck you. That last part should be easy enough. We both know what a cheap, easy slut you are! Sorry, I won’t buy you a drink first. That’s because I make better decisions for you than you’ve ever made for yourself. You haven’t had a drink in a while, you’re eating healthier than you ever have, when you actually bother to earn a meal. Once you’ve learned how to behave, you’ll be well fed and well rested on a regular basis. Just let me take care of you. Let go, sweetheart,” he would croon softly, actually sounding affectionate. “You don’t have to do a piss-poor job of trying to take care of me or anyone else. You don’t have to carry the weight of the world around on your shoulders anymore. Just be good for me, and I’ll make it good for you.” 

Eventually, he did let go. Sammy won, he had the stronger will, more stamina, was unrelenting. Once he had finally beaten him down, Dean was completely broken; physically and emotionally. There was no fight left in him.

Now, he was kneeling in front of his brother, grateful he wasn’t alone, grateful for the attention, grateful the angry faces and disgusted, shaming voices were finally gone. It was much easier this time. All he had to do was listen to what Sam said, respond on command, and parrot back the replies Sam wanted to hear. Sam no longer had to beat them out of him. He kept repeating the same mantra in his head, to keep himself sane. Sammy’s here, Sammy’s safe. No one and nothing can harm Sammy now, and nothing else matters. 

He’d been well trained, and his brother loved to confirm it. Sam was drilling him, asking him questions he knew how to answer all too well. 

“Why did you whore yourself out, wiggling your tight little ass, bending over those pool tables, making women, and others gawk at you, distracting them while you hustled them to get money for food and rent?”

“I wasn’t smart enough to earn money any other way, Sir.” 

“And the real reason, the same reason you fucked anything on two legs every chance you got?”

“I’m an attention whore, Sir. I wanted to be loved so badly I took whatever attention I could get, it didn’t matter whether it was genuine affection or a cheap fuck.”

“That’s right. And you abandoned me to get it when I was just an innocent kid. So many times I could’ve been killed, by monsters or humans, left alone in cheap, sleazy motels while you were getting your rocks off with the skanks and barflies you picked up. Isn’t that right, Dean?”

“Yes Sir. I was selfish, foolish, and completely unworthy of my responsibility. You treat me better than I deserve.”

“That’s very good, sweetheart. Even a brainless little smart-ass like you can be trained after all. Good thing you’re so pretty. If you weren’t I wouldn’t bother to make use of those pretty pink lips and that sweet ass of yours. And if I didn’t, then what would you be?”

“I would be useless, Sir. You honor me every time you use me, Sir”.

“In that case, I think you should get your ass up here and bounce up and down on my cock. Now.” Dean knew better than to disobey an order. Obeying orders was the second best thing he was good at. He crawled to the couch, climbed up onto Sam’s lap and did as he was told. He was used to this now. With a wave of his fingers, Sam was usually merciful enough make him lubed and prepped. Dean knew that if he hesitated, even for a second, he wouldn’t be that lucky. He felt it happen as he lowered himself onto his brother’s huge cock and sighed quietly in relief. He buried his face in the crook of Sam’s neck, resting it against his shoulder and continued moving up and down losing himself in Sam. His soft smooth skin, his sweet dimpled smile, the long silky brown hair were all still exactly the same, everything was the same, aside from a faint hint of sulfur mixed in with the sweet musky scent that was unmistakably Sam. G-d help him, It felt so good to be this close to him. Dean was having a hard time stifling the small moans that escaped from his lips. 

Sam kissed him, moaning back into his mouth. “You really are a little slut, moaning like a bitch in heat every time I fuck you. And judging by that stiff little cock of yours, you can’t get enough can you?”

“No, Sir”, he answered quickly. Dean had been well conditioned, to respond to anything and everything exactly the way Sam wanted. Whenever Sam humiliated, hurt, fucked or praised him, Dean’s pathetic response was the same. He automatically became rock hard, like some mindless Pavlovian dog. Sam’s treatment had become a less harsh as Dean had become more obedient. He didn’t beat Dean as often, and sometimes Dean was permitted to come while he was servicing Sam. Today, Sam decided to add something new to their routine.

“Oh, yeah, baby, such a pretty little whore you are. You just keep getting better and better at this. At least you’re good at something. Today, you can come, on one condition. I want you to look me in the eye and tell me I’m your Daddy.”

Dean froze. He cringed inwardly. Having to say that out loud felt so humiliating, but G-d, he wanted to come so badly, and of course the humiliation made him even harder, more desperate. It had been so long since he’d been allowed to come. And he was rarely allowed to look Sammy in the eye, always keeping his own eyes lowered, in yet another act of submission. Sam was right, he really was nothing but a cheap, filthy whore, willing to trade any shred of dignity or self self respect for one orgasm. But really, who was he kidding? he’d lost those the second he’d stopped fighting. He was no longer entitled to such things. Dean never imagined he had a “daddy fetish”, maybe it came from being so desperate for his father’s approval, maybe he was just a sick fuck himself. Whatever the reason, the very thought of saying those words was driving him so crazy he couldn’t see straight. Suddenly, before he even realized he was doing it, he looked up at his brother and the words spilled out. “You’re my daddy,” he moaned, “you’re my daddy, oh, oh Daddy, oh Daddy, please Daddy, I love you Daddy!” 

“Mmmm, so good for me, baby, come for me”. Dean’s release was immediate and intense, he didn’t remember ever coming so hard or for so long in his life. “Thank you, Sir,” he whispered, breathless, as he kept moving up and down. He hadn’t been told to stop, and Sam wasn’t finished yet. After at least another half hour, Sam was finally sated. Exhausted, Dean collapsed on top of him. When he woke up, he found himself in Sam’s arms, on a huge king sized bed instead of alone and chained up on the floor of his cold, empty room with no windows and no lights. This must be Sam’s room. He must have used his powers to upgrade it. Dean hadn’t been in here since before things changed, before Lucifer got his hands on Sam. Dean thought he must have made Sam very happy, to be allowed in here. The thought filled him with a soothing warmth, which flowed through his entire body. He was engulfed in a sense of peace and calm that he’d never experienced before. If it could feel this good, he needed nothing more out of life than to continue pleasing his brother. Really, in his pathetic, miserable life what else was there? What else had there ever been?

 

 

 

He was in Sam’s bed again. Sam was still just human enough to need sleep once in a while, and he looked so peaceful. Dean loved watching him, feeling the rhythm of his breathing, listening to his heartbeat. It was the only time he could be with Sam without being berated or abused. If Dean were to be completely honest with himself he had to admit than when Sam was awake, when he was using Dean, the sex was amazing. Sex with his baby brother! He was actually fantasizing about it! He was even beginning to dream about it, only in the dreams Sam wasn’t cold or cruel. He was the real Sammy, telling Dean how much he loved him, telling him he wasn’t worthless, telling him everything Dean ached to hear. 

He spent most nights in Sam’s bed now, but it was time for him to get up, he needed to have breakfast ready by the time Sam got up. He climbed out of the cozy, warm bed and padded off to the kitchen. He made coffee first, then set the table for one as usual. He prepared a plate full of scrambled eggs, bacon, whole wheat toast and fresh fruit for Sam. When everything was cleaned up and breakfast was ready Dean took his place on the floor next to Sam’s chair. Once he’d begun to kneel on the floor willingly, he’d been rewarded with a large dog bed and a blanket to keep him warm and comfortable. Sometimes, on what he thought of as “doggy days”, he wore a butt plug with a brown tail on the end of it. It felt good, brushing gently against his prostate and keeping him open and ready for Sam. Sam took great pleasure in scratching him behind the ears and calling him “Scooby”. On those days he had to eat out of a dog dish with his name on it and drink out of a matching water dish with the word bitch on it. He wasn’t allowed to use words on those days, except for one. It wasn’t really a word. He could only respond to questions or commands using by saying “Arf”, three times for yes, twice for no. The best part was getting pats on the head and being told he was a good boy. He was lavished with praise and affection all day long and he could kiss and lick Sammy as much as he wanted. The joy of gazing up at Sammy’s smiling face and running his tongue up and down over those beautiful dimples was indescribable. He would wiggle his butt from side to side happily wagging his tail, His mind free of all concerns, all worries, all responsibilities. He felt content to just be, without a care in the world.

On other days he had to wear a diaper and a bib and sit in a high chair. On those days he ate with his hands and drank out of a baby bottle or a “sippy” cup. He wasn't beaten on those days aside from an occasional spanking, which, in all honesty he was beginning to find enjoyable, and he got to call Sam “Daddy”, even when he wasn’t being used for sex. The worst thing about “baby” days was actually having to use his diaper, but since he had daily enemas to stay clean for Sammy’s use, and therefore only got them wet, it really wasn’t all that bad. 

On most days he was just Sammy’s whore. On those days Sam hand fed him. That was his favorite way of being fed. It was intimate, almost loving. He felt closer to Sam at meal times on those days than he did during sex. Today, he was being hand fed. Breakfast was wonderful. Sam even shared his coffee with him. Afterward, Sam made use of Dean sexually, and then did some reading while Dean was allowed to watch TV. At lunch, Sam was feeding Dean some pieces of a grilled cheese sandwich and homemade French fries along with a salad (yuck). They were interrupted by a surprise visit from Lucifer. 

“Oh, my dad, what have we done to our big brother? Sammy, Sammy, Sammy. You have been a naughty boy. And you played right into my hands. I knew this would be the perfect way to torment you, the absolute perfect punishment!” 

“Punishment? I don’t understand. You gave me angel grace and demonic power. I can do anything I want now. I can have anything I want any time I want! How is that a punishment?”

Laughing, Lucifer gave Sammy an evil smile and with a wink at Dean he turned back to Sam. “It’s deliciously simple”, he laughed. Dean watched frozen in his spot at Sam’s feet as Lucifer sucked the bit of shiny blue angel grace and the black smoky demon essence right out of Sam. “Trade ya”, he chuckled. With a wave of his hands Sam’s face contorted and he slumped forward into Dean’s waiting arms. “Luci giveth, and Luci taketh away. You no longer have your special powers but don’t fret big boy, at least you’ve got your soul back. That’s your punishment! No one, not even your brother, after all that lovely torture you inflicted on him, will ever hate you nearly as much as you’ll hate yourself.” And with a flap of his wings Lucifer was gone.

Dean looked down at his brother, who’d gone limp in his arms. His eyes began to flutter as he looked up at Dean. They were filled with an expression of horror. “Oh, G-d, Oh, G-d, Dean!!” Sam was sobbing now. “What have I done?! How could I -, oh, G-d, no!” He jumped up, and ran out of the kitchen. Dean followed Sam to his room, crawling behind him. To his horror, Sam had grabbed his old duffel from the closet and started to fill it with clothes. Dean felt panic rising up in his chest.

“Sir?”

Sam didn’t look up, couldn’t bring himself to make eye contact. “I’m leaving. After everything I’ve done you can’t possibly want me here. I won’t put you through that.”

“You always leave me,” Dean mumbled, so softly Sam, who was lost in thought, didn’t even hear. He waited in silence until Sam finally looked up. By then, Dean’s whole body was trembling. He looked absolutely terrified. Sam had never seen him like that before.

“Dean, talk to me. Please, tell me what’s wrong”.

Dean wasn’t even sure how to respond. He’d barely spoken in so long, other than to say “Yes Sir”, or “No Sir”. He barely recognized his own voice, but he had to try. Sam wanted him to speak. It came out softly, sounding almost timid. “Please, I’ll be good. I need you”.

Sam was sickened by what he’d done, what Dean had become, what Sam had forced him to become. He was stunned by Dean’s behavior. It had to be all his relentless, harsh conditioning, or maybe Stockholm Syndrome, or some warped combination. But if Dean was this upset at the prospect of losing him, he couldn’t just walk out. 

“It’s okay”, he said softly. “I’ll stay if that’s what you want. Please calm down. I won’t hurt you. I won’t ever hurt you again, I swear”. He tossed the duffel aside and sat on the floor with Dean, wrapping an arm around him and running fingers through his soft dirty blonde hair, gently massaging his scalp to try to calm him down. Dean hugged him back in a vice-like grip, holding on for dear life as if he were a drowning man and Sam was a life preserver. He’d never seen him like this before. “It’s okay, it’s okay, I’m not leaving. I’ll never leave you, ever, unless you want me to.” Slowly, the shaking subsided and Dean became calmer. Out of habit, he kept his eyes down, focused on the floor, silent. Finally, Sam couldn’t tolerate the silence any longer. “Dean, you can talk”, Sam reminded him. He would need a lot of reminding for quite some time. “You don’t need permission, and you won’t be punished.”

Dean felt so lost, he didn’t even know how to address him now. Sir? Daddy? Master? He wasn’t a dog or a baby today. “Sir?”, half expecting a slap across the face and a reminder that he was too brainless to address his brother correctly without further instruction.

“Dean, no, please look at me.” Sam gently stroked Dean’s chin, tilting it back to make him look up. “Dean, you can look at me, and you can call me Sammy. Hell, call me an asshat if you want to. Those other things? You never have to call me those again. And you can always look at me, any time you want.” 

Dean smiled up into his brother’s eyes. “Sir-, Sammy, it’s really you in there, all of you, isn’t it?” 

“Yes”, Sammy smiled back and nodded, reaching for Dean’s collar. He unbuckled and removed it, tears streaming down his face. “It’s me, nerdy, geeky, girly soul and all.” Dean ran his fingers across his neck. It felt so strange not to be wearing the collar. It had become a part of him, was usually the only thing he wore and felt even more naked without it. Wow, he thought, how fucked up was that!

They both jumped when Castiel appeared. “Sam, Dean, are you all right? I’ve been keeping an eye on the bunker, but it’s been so heavily warded I couldn’t get near it. It was as if it had been cloaked by an incredibly powerful force and then suddenly, after all this time it just disappeared. Dean, why are you naked?” Dean was shaking again. “Sam, what’s wrong with him? What’s happened?”

“I happened. It was all part of Lucifer’s ultimate punishment for me. Dean got caught in the crossfire and paid the price.” Sam went on to explain everything that had happened, sparing a few of the more embarrassing details. Castiel was horrified and extremely worried about both brothers. He used his grace to heal Dean’s wounds and scars. He couldn’t wipe the painful memories from the brothers’ minds, however. Lucifer had blocked Castiel’s ability to do that, and being an archangel his powers were stronger. He was able to provide clothing for Dean. Sam had made all of his things disappear and no longer had the power to bring them back. It was clear they both needed rest and time to heal. Since Dean was in a fragile state, Castiel stayed with him to give Sam some time alone. He restored all of Dean’s belongings and gave his room some upgrades. It was now bigger, and had a big bed like Sam’s. Dean put on a pair of sleep pants and climbed in. Castiel hung up his trench coat, and transformed his suit and tie into a t shirt and sleep pants, climbing into the bed next to Dean.

Dean looked at him in awe. “I forget what you are, that you’re an angel, and not just some guy. I took you for granted and I acted like a dick. I’m sorry. Thank you for being my friend.”

Castiel was stunned. Dean didn’t talk like this, not the Dean Winchester he had always known. He could tell there was a lot of healing ahead. “You’re welcome, Dean. It is nice to be appreciated. You are appreciated as well, and I will always be your friend.”

“I’m not sure I’m worthy of your friendship, but I’ll try to be from now on. You deserve respect and I’ll try not to forget that.” He drifted off to sleep with his head on Castiel’s shoulder. Dean awoke from several nightmares and didn’t really get much sleep for several nights. Sam’s sleep was tortured as well, between his guilty conscience and his own nightmares. 

The next weeks were challenging for everyone. Sam and Castiel had to practically wrestle Dean away from the kitchen and tie him down to get him to let someone else cook once in a while, and he was uncomfortable sitting at the table instead of on the floor, which made Sam sick to his stomach. He sat close to Dean, rubbing his back, speaking soft words of encouragement to help him relax and to reinforce his right to sit at the table and feed himself, with utensils, just like everyone else. After breakfast, Dean felt awkward, and lonely sitting so far away from Sam. He missed his scent, his touch, the closeness he’d felt kneeling at his feet, feeling the warmth of his body so close, being able to lean against him and feel the soft skin rippling over his strong muscles. He would get used to it, he told himself. It would just take time. Sam would read or do research on his laptop while Dean watched TV or played board games with Castiel. Sam did his best to lose himself in books and research. He wouldn’t leave Dean, but Sam knew how badly he’d broken him, and seeing him the way he was now broke his heart so much it was almost impossible to bear.

One day Castiel made a pained face and his hands flew to his forehead. The Winchester’s knew this look well. He was getting a strong distress signal from “Angel Radio”. He looked up, worried. “There is an emergency in heaven and my presence is required in order to address it. I will return as soon as possible. Will you two be all right if I go?”

Dean was the first to respond. “We’ll be okay Cas. Heaven comes first, then us. Do what you need to do.” Sam agreed.

“Okay, but please, if you need anything, do not hesitate to contact me. I will return immediately if necessary.” With that, Castiel was gone. 

Dean got up and went to the kitchen for some coffee. He found a bottle of his favorite flavored creamer in the fridge and a pie in the freezer. Walking back into the living room, he smiled at Sam. “You remembered the pie”, he laughed.

Sam smiled back without looking up. “I’m planning on heading out this afternoon for another supply run. Wanna come? We could take Baby, and you can drive if you want.” Dean froze. Driving Baby, his beloved Chevy Impala. He hadn’t thought about that for a long time. He missed her a lot, but he hadn’t been out in public for so long the idea of actually going somewhere, even a quick run to the market, was daunting. And the thought of being in Baby with Sam, well, it was giving him ideas, images of being in the backseat with Sam, pressed against Baby’s soft leather. He was fantasizing about things he had no right to fantasize about. He wasn’t sure he’d be able to keep his hands off Sammy. Beautiful, strong, sexy Sammy. Filled with shame and self-loathing, he couldn’t bring himself to respond. After long moments of silence, Sam looked up.

“Dean, did you hear me? Is something wrong? It’s okay. You can go by yourself if you want. I get it. You don’t wanna spend time with me- or you don’t want me in the Impala. Just so you know, I haven’t been using it, other than to start it up every so often, make sure she’s running.”

Dean made a pained effort to respond. “I’m sorry, just can’t- can’t, oh, G-d Sammy, it’s too disgusting. Maybe, maybe you were right about leaving. You can if you want. Guess I shouldn’t have made you stay. Was being selfish as usual.”

“Dean, you’re not selfish. I’ll leave if you want me to. I can’t imagine how horrible it is for you to be around me..”

“No,” Dean cut him off mid-sentence. “It’s not that, it’s me. You shouldn’t have to be around a sick freak like me.”

“Dean, what are you talking about?! You’re not a freak. I know what I did to you. I used you, violated you, broke you. If anyone’s a sick freak it’s me. There’s nothing wrong with you- nothing I didn’t make wrong.”

“You don’t get it. You don’t know. Can’t stop thinking about it, can’t stop wanting it. You were right, Sam. Truth is, If I’m being brutally honest, I really am a total slut for it. For you. Can’t stand to be around you and not touch, not do all those things you used to love to make me do. Just wanna be good for you, you said it was good- that I was good. I hate myself for needing to take care of you...like that, for even thinking about it. I won’t act on it, you have my word. But I know what a total perv I am. You don’t need to be here. You deserve the picket fence life you always wanted, that I dragged you away from. Everything you did, I deserved. It was about punishment, humiliation, not sex, not love. Not your fault that I’m so fucked up I can’t even tell the difference, or that I’m so fucked up in the head I actually liked it. You need to get as far away from me as possible as fast as possible and never look back.”

Sam was very quiet for a while, pretending to be engrossed in something fascinating on his laptop screen. Eventually, he turned to Dean, who was sitting quietly, staring off into space. It was something he found himself doing often these days, so much to process, just trying to wrap his head around everything was exhausting. At least he was sitting on the couch now, without waiting for permission. Slowly, Sam got up and sat next to his brother. He cradled Dean’s face in his giant hands. “Dean, it wasn’t all just about power and control. I was soulless, but not heartless- if that makes any sense at all.” He leaned forward, gently pressing his lips to Dean’s, kissing him softly. “I love you. I wasn’t gonna say anything, ever, but I miss it too. What Lucifer did, it caused us to experience things that otherwise we would never have explored. You were forced into it. That’s on me. But if it’s something you still want, you can have it. We’re adults, and if it’s what we both want, maybe, maybe it’s not a bad thing. No one else has been through what we’ve been through, maybe for us it’s not so wrong” Dean looked up at Sam, dull sad eyes filling with hope. He pressed his face into the crook of Sam’s neck, feeling his creamy skin and inhaling his scent again. “It’s okay, baby,” Sam whispered, offering reassurance. “Tell me what you want, tell me what you need.” And Dean opened up, it was like a dam crumbling. He told his brother how much he needed him to take control, to punish him (to a point), call him those dirty names, own him like he did before. They discussed limits and safe words and how much they loved each other. It may have been the longest conversation they’d ever had.

When Castiel returned to the bunker he found Dean naked, sprawled across Sam’s lap on the couch. Sam was Spanking him. “Dean, why is Sam spanking your rear?” Dean looked up with a peaceful, content smile, and gave him a mischievous wink.

“Perhaps I’ve done something wrong.”

“But you haven’t- oh,” the realization suddenly struck Cas. “I think I understand. You two are playing ‘Pizza Man’. I’ll just go get some for myself- pizza I mean, and return later.” And with that he left them alone. 

“I guess that makes you the babysitter!”, Sam chuckled.

“I was your first babysitter, might as well be your last”, Dean replied. “And you can be my pizza man any time, baby. After all, pizza is a kind of pie, and you know much I love me some pie.” They both laughed as Sam pulled Dean up to face him and kissed him passionately.


End file.
